


An Ear to Listen

by KirbyChan



Series: South Park Oneshots [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt, but you can take it as kenny being a good friend if you want lol, stenny if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirbyChan/pseuds/KirbyChan
Summary: Out of all the things Mysterion thought he would have to do as a hero, talking his friend off the ledge was not one of them.





	An Ear to Listen

Something inside had told him that he needed to be at the bridge tonight, and Mysterion was never one to ignore his instincts. What he found wasn’t something he had wanted to see, but goddamn was he glad he made it here before it was too late.

Mysterion had dealt with many things in his time as a hero. Muggers, gangs, crooked cops, even the occasional hellspawn.

But none of that compared to what was in front of him now. “You don’t need to do this.”

The conversation had been completely one-sided, from Mysterion finding him, and until now. Stan hadn’t even turned to look at him once, gaze firmly fixed on the rushing rapids below. Even without words, Mysterion wasn’t stupid. He knew what his friend was planning to do. “Please…” he tried again. “Nothing is worth this.”

Perhaps his words finally made some sort of impact, or perhaps he was just sick of Mysterion being there, but finally Stan turned his head to look at who was speaking to him.

Mysterion couldn’t say that Stan was impressed. He seemed more annoyed than anything. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?” His voice was hoarse, and slightly slurred, and Mysterion didn’t need to be a genius to see that he had been drinking.

“The guy who’s trying to help you,” he replied, taking a careful step forward. Stan didn’t move, and he was thankful.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like unnecessary bloodshed.”

Stan laughed bitterly and turned back to the edge of the bridge. “Trust me, dude. This is necessary.”

“No it’s not.” Mysterion sighed and took another step. “Whatever you’re going through, _this-”_ He gestured to the bridge. “-is never the answer.”

“If you knew me, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“I don’t need to know you to know I’m right.” Finally Mysterion reached the railings and gripped them tightly. “But…tell me about yourself.”

He got the reaction he was expecting and, most importantly, what he was hoping for. “What?” Stan asked, looking shocked. “Why?”

“I want to know,” Mysterion replied simply. “Tell me why you think this is the only way.”

When he didn’t get a reply for a good minute and a half (he counted), Mysterion risked a look over to his friend. To him, it looked as if Stan was having some internal struggle. “I…I wouldn’t even know where to start…”

“That’s fine. I’ll start.” Mysterion nodded and hummed in thought. “Do your friends know about this?” Because Kenny was ashamed to admit that he didn’t. He knew Stan could have bad depression spells, but nothing as serious as this.

He was surprised when Stan let out another bitter laugh. “Not really,” came the unexpected answer. “My best friend is sick of me. Whenever I tried to talk to him, he didn’t know what to do and would get fed up with how down I am. Said I ruin things with my shitty attitude.”

Oof. Now that Stan mentioned it, he could recall Kyle saying something like that a few years ago. “So I stopped talking about it. Tried to act like nothing’s wrong. I guess it got to be too much.”

“What about your other friends?”

“They don’t give two shits about me.” Mysterion felt his heart throb. That was a little harsh. “My one friend is a goddamn sociopath that doesn’t care about anything unless he gets something out of it. My other friend has enough shit going on in his life. He’s gotta support his whole family since his parents are always too drunk or too high to do it themselves. I don’t wanna dump my problems onto him. He wouldn’t care either, anyway.”

_That’s not true,_ Kenny’s mind screamed at him. _I would care. I DO care._ But he said none of that, opting to keep his identity a secret for now. “What about your parents?” He asked instead. “Your family?”

“My parents are too busy hating each other,” Stan replied immediately, anticipating the question. “My dad’s a fucking idiot, my mom’s trying not to lose her mind, and my sister hates my fucking guts.”

Mysterion tried not to wince. Yeah, that…that sounded pretty accurate. “Pets?” He tried again, confident he knew the answer to this one. Stan _loved_ animals.

But when Stan bit his lip, Mysterion suddenly got a horrible feeling. “I…I had a dog. Sparky. He was weird sometimes but – but he was the best dog I could’ve ever asked for.”

_Oh no._ “Was?”

“He died about a week ago.” There it was. That was exactly what Mysterion had been afraid of. He’d put money on that being the main reason why Stan was out here tonight. “He was getting on up there in years, you know?” Stan’s voice wobbled, and Mysterion could tell he was trying (and failing) hard not to cry. “He got really quiet, and stopped eating… Mom and I made sure he was comfy. He went to sleep and then just…never woke up.”

As Stan was about to wipe his eyes, Mysterion reached over and let a few tears roll onto his fingers. “I’m sorry for your loss…” he replied, unsure of what else he could possibly say.

To his delight, Stan actually smiled and didn’t push his hand away. “Heh…it’s weird. You’re the first person I’ve told about Sparky. I don’t even know why I told you.”

“Well, I did ask.”

This time Stan laughed for real. It was soft, and broken, but Mysterion could tell it was sincere. “Yeah…I guess you did.” He visibly relaxed. Good, they were making progress. Right now, Stan needed someone who was willing to listen, and he was more than willing to be that ear.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start to recovery.

“You never did tell me who you are. Or why you’re running around in such a dumb costume.”

He’d let that comment about his costume slide for now. Smiling, Mysterion lowered his hand to squeeze Stan’s shoulder. “Come back over the railing and I’ll tell you.”

Stan hesitated, and Mysterion waited patiently for his answer. Once he began to turn around, Mysterion gently helped him over the railing and back onto stable ground. _Thank God._

Mission accomplished.

“I like to keep watch over the city,” Mysterion finally answered, hands never leaving Stan’s shoulders. “Help people when they need it.”

“Huh…” Stan mumbled in thought, feeling a little dazed. “I didn’t know South Park had its very own Batman.”

“I like to keep a low profile. I try to avoid showing myself to other people unless it’s really important.”

“Oh…sorry for wasting your time then.”

Mysterion shook his head. “You aren’t a waste of time. Listen…even if you think you have no one, that’s not true. You have me now, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you get through this, Stan.”

He felt him tense in his hold. “How…how do you know my name?”

“Think of me as a guardian angel.” He couldn’t help but smile at the nickname. Perhaps it was time to help someone other than his sister. “I’m here to remind you that you aren’t alone. You never were, and you never will be.”

Stan wasn’t freaking out as much as he thought he would. Maybe that was the alcohol’s fault, but he would take it. “Oh…great.” Stan rubbed the back of his head, but at least he wasn’t mad. “I’ve got a guardian angel that runs around in fucking tights. That’s pretty gay, dude.”

Mysterion shrugged. “Maybe. But you look like shit, no offense. Let me walk you home so you can get some sleep. You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”

Stan knew, but he didn’t budge. “Only if you tell me your name.”

“…Mysterion.”

It seemed to satisfy him enough, at least for now. “Okay…thanks, Mysterion.”

“Anytime.”


End file.
